


Bound Tight

by Mistevieous



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, Open to Interpretation, Other, open pairing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-20
Updated: 2019-02-20
Packaged: 2019-11-01 04:48:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17860595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mistevieous/pseuds/Mistevieous





	Bound Tight

“You good, Rookie?”

Wash turns his face towards the voice, though he can’t see anything through the blindfold. He nods, also unable to speak with the ballgag in his mouth.

Is he good? God yes!

The darkness is surreal in a way he wasn’t expecting, it makes him hyper aware of everything else. Like the feel of the rubber ball holding his mouth open, causing him to drool a little. His lips are stretched tight around the ball, jaw feeling tense already from being held open. But there’s something about being muffled that makes him want to scream, in a good way.

And the straps on his body, straps everywhere- he can feel them so intensely. Some held his wrists together, arms flexed and stretched above his head, a faint ache burning in his muscles. A crisscross of straps fit firmly over his chest and back, tight on his torso and securing him in place. He can feel the way they press into his skin, just loose enough to rub against his skin when he shifts but not enough to let him move at all. They keep him held to the bed tightly, snug and feeling tighter when he breathes deeply. Which he keeps doing, anticipation growing.

More straps are across his hips, he seen them before they were put on and knows they have handles on them, too. They stretch down to his legs, which are forcibly bent. His calves are held tight to his thighs, the strips tighter to keep his legs bent up just right, leather wrapped in a few places over his thighs and from knees to ankles. There’s straps on each leg somewhere, he’s not sure, but they keep his knees pulled apart, keeping him spread wide open.

Finally, the last bit of straps are around his dick, thinner straps that just circle the base, keeping him hard and aching. The straps will prolong or prevent his orgasm, he knows that already, but the idea of being denied that rush of pleasure only builds more excitement in him.

He hears the sound of his partner coming closer, shuffling towards the bed until he feels the side dip down under their weight.

“Are you ready?” The voice asks, a hand touching across his belly, teasingly dipping lower towards his pelvic bone, playing along one of the straps over his lip.

Wash nods again, eager, letting out a faint groan.

He feels the bed press down more as they get further up on the bed, hands pressing against his needy skin. One braces on his thigh and the other on his stomach, just enough pressure to almost keep him steady more than themself. His breath holds in his throat, body tense, full of suspense as he waits for more.

There’s a long moment of stillness and silence, it feels like it stretches on forever. Just as he feels desperation build in him, a soft begging noise trying to break free, he at last feels heat closer to his dick. His hips instinctively try to lift, wanting to find that heat, get more of it, get some contact. The hands on him press harder and keep him in place instead, finally easing that pitiful noise from him, muffled but no doubt obvious in the silent room.

He feels the laugh more than hears it, breath blanketing over his erection and sensitive skin.

He’s given some pity at long last with a flick of a hot, wet tongue over the head of his dick. His groan is, again, muffled, but it’s deep and drawn out with need. His hips jump again, but the hands keep him mostly still, his muscles tight and straining against his bindings. The straps do their job well, he can’t do much more than tense and breathe hard out of his nose. It’s equal parts frustraining and thrilling, which is kind of the point, isn’t it?

Lips finally encase his cock, just the tip but it’s enough to make him shudder all over. Goosebumps spread over his skin, his hands tightening into fists above his head as he tries another time to roll his hips to no avail. He wants to press into the hot mouth, he wants to feel the tongue against his dick and the wetness swallowing him up. But he can’t get any traction, can’t move his hips enough to get deeper past those lips. He’s trapped with just the sensitive head being loosely mouthed, at his partner’s mercy.

But there is no mercy, no second bout of pity, not yet at least. The lips are light on the head, just pressing enough to be felt, hot and wet, teasing. He can feel the tip of that tongue sliding around the ridge of his head, too light to give any relief.

Wash moans around the gag, it’s quieter than it would normally be but it sounds loud as hell in his ears. Though it’s actually kind of hard to hear past the pounding of his heart echoing in his head, the rasping of his needy breathing not helping him hear much, either.

In what he thinks is finally another show of pity, the mouth goes further down his dick and rips a surprised and pleasured moan from his throat. However, it’s over as quick as it started, the mouth and hands both pulling away from him and leaving him stimulated but hanging alone now. The weight leaves the bed too, and he’s alone in silence as he lies there.

He squirms again, letting a pitiful noise slip free. Teasing is part of this whole thing, control too. And him letting go of control, trusting his partner not to completely undo him but to also make it nice and interesting as well. They’re doing a great job so far, he’s completely enthralled with every noise his ears strain to hear, wanting more and more and being left waiting still.

Wash’s body burns for contact, his muscles twitching and trembling with the strain of anticipation. He keeps trying to strain his ears for any sound, unable to tell where his partner is besides a general “away from him”, which is too far away.

The moment hangs for a long time, his body aching for something, anything. Sweat has started to form over his skin, making him feel chilled despite the fire burning over his body.

After what he swears is an eternity, he feels the bed dip close to his feet, weight making its way up between his spread legs. He can feel their body heat, so near his body is warmed by it but not enough to satisfy that need. Despite the blindfold and his shut eyelids, his eyes move side to side as if searching for them in the darkness. Of course he can’t see a thing whatsoever, but his mind is begging him to try and figure out what’s going on, to see how close they are, if they’re finally going to give him any attention.

There’s another stretch of silence and lack of contact, enough to make him antsy and squirm against his straps. He can’t shift much, but he sure as hell tries, wiggling against his bindings and the bed.

At long, long last, he’s finally touched. A lube slick finger presses inside of him, easing in entirely too slowly and drawing another muffled noise of desperation from him. A hand holds to his hip, he can feel a piece of strap between the palm and his skin, obviously in the handle on the side. The hold keeps him still, pinned to the bed and making it impossible for him to grind his hips against that hand to get the finger moving more. It’s intoxicatingly frustrating, labored breaths forcing their way out of his nose.

“You’re so needy today.” The voice is teasing, almost sing-song as it speaks.

He gives a heavy sigh, his head resting back against the headrest and trying to calm himself a little. He can feel the heat of a blush on his cheeks and spreading down his neck, chest heaving with each breath.

The finger keeps moving slowly, but works in and out of him, making his thighs flex against the straps. He wants to move so badly but he can’t, it only adds to the pleasure of need building in him.

A second finger joins before long, thankfully, working him over as the other hand keeps him in place. He’s given some mercy finally with a mouth on his dick again, lips tight around the head and tongue flicking over the tip. It’s almost too much pleasure, he tightens around the fingers and lifts his head, chin pressing to his chest and nostrils flaring as he moans. The difference between the slow moving fingers and fast moving tongue sends him into a dizzy rush, everything intensified with his eyes covered, unable to see anything and his mind running wild.

The fingers continue for far too long, not long or thick enough to give him the pleasure he craves. It makes him aches everywhere, breathing hard, faint whimpers slipping free with each exhale. The mouth and tongue slow their attention, though, only making it all so much worse and incredible.

Just as he’s about to lose his goddamn mind, the contact all pulls away save for the hand holding his hip still. He gives a grunt of disapproval, hands fisting again and pulling hard against his bindings. Another hint of a laugh hits his ears, more appreciative sounding than amused and he can just imaging his partner is looking him over and enjoying the desperate, on display look of his body.

Wash lets out a hard breath through his nose, fighting the urge to whine during the long moment of no contact. He’s about to lose his mind when the familiar nudge of a dildo draws him back to reality. His hips squirm but it doesn’t make his partner move any faster, unable to do much to encourage the slow press of the toy’s head as it nudges barely inside. He keeps trying nonetheless, fidgeting against his restraints until the dildo stops moving entirely. 

“Stop moving, or the toy goes away.” The voice warns, dildo held still, not moving deeper but at least not being pulled away. Yet. “Understood?” 

Wash nods his head eagerly, fingers curling into fists again as he stills himself. He can be good, he can follow orders very well. He can do this. 

The trade of power for pleasure is unbelievable still, every time he does this he’s in awe of how much relinquishing control turns him on. There’s probably something to that, but he doesn’t dig deeper for answers, just enjoys the power play. 

Thankfully, once he’s still and obeying his partner, they continue to press the slick dildo into him. He just barely manages to keep still, mostly, but is unable to stop the moan muffled against the gag. It seems to be met with approval, a soft noise comes from the foot of the bed and the dildo is eased fully into him at long last. He tried to adjust to the toy, wanting to feel it moving already, needing the stimulation. But he has to wait, forces himself to hold still, let his partner get what they’re looking for, just breathe and hold it together. 

His efforts are rewarded with a twist of the toy, feeling it turn half a circle one way then the other before it’s pulled halfway out. He gasps around the gag, drool slipping down his chin and cock throbbing with need. He tightens his fists, toes curling as well as he focuses on breathing. It’s easier said than done, his body wants to move, arch up, roll his hips with the dildo to make it go faster, deeper. He pushes the thoughts away and focuses on what pleasure he is getting, the slow, calculated pull and push of the toy. It’s on purpose, they want to drive him up a wall with just enough pleasure to make his body burn but not enough to satisfy his needs. And, fuck, he loves playing this game.

He isn’t really expecting the dildo to suddenly start moving more, faster, pumping in and out of him. His partner fucked him with the toy, over and over, going harder inside of him with each thrust. It made his body quiver, moaning as loud as he can around the gag. His muscles pull against the binds, unable to stop himself from arching as much as he can to get more. Thankfully, his partner didn’t punish him for moving, continuing to fuck him with the dildo.

Wash can feel his orgasm building, burning in his stomach, aching to be released-! However, with the strap wrapped around the base of his cock, no orgasm was going to be granted. He whines outright, unable to stop the noise from being ripped from his throat. The gag still muffles the noise, drool continues to trickle down his chin. He’s desperate, shivering all over, trying so hard to pull it together but unraveling at the seams with need. The dildo just continues to slam into him, over and over, working him into even more of a flustered, eager mess. Hell, he’d plead right now if he could, beg and grovel if he needed to get his relief.

After what feels like an eternity, he feels fingers dance up along his thigh, the dildo continuing to fuck him as the touch eases along the strap wrapped around his dick. His hips arch as much as they can again, needy, pathetically needy. He strains against the bindings, muffled gasps filling the room.

The hand finally undoes the strap around his cock, letting it fall loose before it wraps around his dick and strokes in time with the dildo. He just about comes out of his body with all the pleasure, cumming before he knows it as the duo rock his body. He would be screaming if not for the gag, muffled noises spilling from him as his orgasm rips through his body. His legs try to pull together as waves of almost painful pleasure washes over him, but the straps keep him spread open for the dildo to keep working him over.

“Don’t strain yourself too hard, Wash. We’re not done yet.” The voice says as the dildo slows it’s thrusts, but keeps moving slowly in and out.

He lets out a pitiful noise through his nose as his head drops back again, trying to breath but more than ready to see what else his partner has planned for him.


End file.
